


The Happiest Place on Earth (Here In Your Arms)

by shootingstarlou



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blowjobs, Disney AU, Disneyland, Fluff, M/M, famous!harry, not famous Louis, that's it really, the ziam plot was supposed to be way more developed but i got lazy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:23:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarlou/pseuds/shootingstarlou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Louis have a day to fall in love. Harry takes a couple hours. Louis is two years ahead of him.</p>
<p>In which Harry is really, really famous and likes quinoa, Louis is a huge fan and works at Disneyland, Zayn wants to be Batman, Liam wants to be batman more, (but they want each other too so it'll work out), and Niall just really wants a burger.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Happiest Place on Earth (Here In Your Arms)

**Author's Note:**

> This was honestly meant to be a short little Disneyland AU but there was a criminal lack of actual Disney in the first half so I had to keep writing. Then I had 6k sitting in my Google drive for what feels like years and I had to finish it so the ending is rushed but I'm sorry there you go. Someday I'll post something that's actually good I swear.
> 
> I'm not sure why this exists I project that's what I do as a writer it's the only skill I have I project onto my characters this is not hard to figure out why I wrote this I'm trash I'm sorry.
> 
> Unbeta'd and not read over so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> I do not own this band or anyone in it nor do I know anything about them save their public persona's all ideas are made up in my head they did not happen!!

Louis loves his job. Honestly he does. He loves walking around and talking to all the giddy tourists, high on sugar and the thrill of being in the happiest place on earth, entertaining children and making babies laugh in their mothers arms. He loves running rides and hearing the delighted screams of kids and adults, loves handing out terribly unhealthy food in obscene quantities to families, children tugging on their parents hands impatiently.

He does not, however, love running the information booth. It's slow and boring and the only questions he gets anyways are people who are standing three steps from a map of the entire park asking how to find things. It's infuriating, makes Louis want to tear out his hair (and that would be a shame because his fringe is looking really good lately) and today is no exception. There hasn't been anyone come by in at least 45 minutes, and Louis is perched on the counter with his legs draped over Zayn's shoulders, swinging his legs rhythmically against Zayn's stomach, who gave up on stopping him about ten minutes ago and is resolutely ignoring him instead, absently playing Candy Crush on Louis' phone and drumming his fingers on his thigh in time with the tapping of Louis' socked heels on his stomach.

"'M bored." Louis whines into the silence, dropping his head against the wall behind him.

"You're always bored you wanker, now stuff it and let me finish this level." Zayn says slowly, and it's credit to the fact that Louis knows him so well that he can hear the annoyance in his voice, proof that he's just as antsy as Louis. He complains a lot less though. Sometimes Louis thinks that Zayn is an infinitely better person than he is.

Louis is just deciding that maybe it’s about time for a mid-day nap, and then he can abandon the booth to Zayn for fifteen minutes while he goes and grabs some tea from the nice girl who works at the coffee shop who probably doesn’t know that he’s gay and routinely gives him free drinks when Zayn pinches his ankle, hard, and Louis jerks his eyes open, glaring reproachfully at Zayn.

“What the fuck mate?”

“We’ve got someone here. You might wanna get this one.”

Louis is about to snap ‘Why don’t you just go do it yourself you lazy wanker’ when he happens to actually look up that the ‘someone’ that’s there to be helped and his mouth snaps shut.

The boy who’s standing there’s hair is held back with a bandana and his legs seem to go on for miles because holy mother of god those jeans are tight. He's standing slightly pigeon-toed and his eyes are bright and his lips red and Louis spent six months wanking to those lips alone and shit he is so screwed because that's Harry Styles international popstar standing right there with what looks like two of his mates and he's tall and muscular and real and looking directly at Louis and Louis has a stash of his albums in his shelf at home and a poster that he bought in a weak moment one day shoved hastily in his drawer when he got too embarrassed to put it on his wall and Louis has been at least halfway in love with him since he first saw him on TV two years ago and he’s gonna cream his pants.

"Hi uh, is this the information booth?" Harry Styles asks, and his voice is slow and husky and Louis wonders desperately if it would be weird to pop a boner listening to someone talk.

"What tipped you off, the sign or the ugly polos with the info symbol on them?" Louis quips, and gives himself a mental high five for not sounding like he's having a heart attack.

Harry's short blond friend laughs, tipping his head back and chortling loudly, and the other one, the hot buff one, who Louis would be all over if it weren't for the fact that he was standing right next to Harry Styles pokes him. "Be nice Niall they're not that bad."

Harry smiles at Louis and Louis can feel his heart contract in a rather unpleasant way, honestly. He feels a little lightheaded. "I'd say if anyone could pull that off you'd be it." he drawls slowly, and Louis forces himself to not think about pulling off his polo in any way, especially because the idea of taking off the restricting fabric sounds heavenly right now. His body feels suddenly too tight, like he’s wanting to burst out of his skin, and he blames it on the fact that his insides are coiled to the point of breaking that it takes him a few moments to realize the actual point of Harry’s statement.

He can’t breathe.

“So.. uh, you needed some information?” Louis stutters pathetically, but he figures he deserves a medal for the fact that he’s even still standing, so he’ll take what he can get.

Harry smiles again, slow and lazy, and Louis is blindsided for a moment. He’s watched more interviews than he can count, even figured at one point that he had that smile memorized, the way his dimples pop out when he grins, lips stretching a little too wide over his teeth, but this is something different entirely, because the holder of that smile is standing a couple feet away from Louis, looking straight at him and he feels a little like screaming. Louis sends a little desperate look at Zayn, who’s smirking at Louis knowingly and Louis hates him. Louis hates him and hates Harry Styles and hates that Zayn came over unannounced one day when Louis was listening to Harry’s debut album loudly and dancing around his living room and he’s never let it go since. “Yeah I was wondering what the least populated place to eat lunch was around here.” His smile turns slightly apologetic and Louis’ stomach flips. “It’s just -- it’s proper crowded around here and I’m not in the mood to take that many pictures you know?” He says it as if Louis would have any idea what it’s like to be mobbed by photographers at every turn and Louis just nods dumbly. “God sorry um I’m Harry Styles.” Harry says suddenly and it takes Louis a moment to realize that he actually hadn’t actually properly introduced himself yet, probably assuming that Louis would know who he is. And well. Yeah. “I’m a singer and uh- songwriter I guess. I’m a little famous--” (Niall smacks him across the back of his head) “Okay I’m a lot famous.”

“I know.” Louis says brilliantly, and Harry smiles brightly at him. Damn he smiles a lot. It’s really distracting. Or maybe Louis is just easily distracted. Whatever. “I mean, I know who you are.”

“And by that he means he’s proper obsessed. Got all your albums stashed under his pillow” Zayn pipes up and Louis is going to murder him. He’s honestly going to murder him.

“They are not under my pillow!” Louis protests shrilly.

Zayn scoffs. ”Practically lives in your tag on tumblr, don’t be fooled.”

Louis instantaneously takes back every single nice thing he’s ever said about one Zayn Malik, and hopes his glare is conveying that to the dark-haired devil. From the way Zayn is smiling innocently at him Louis suspects no such luck. Fuck.

Harry Styles giggles -- fucking giggles, and looks positively delighted like he would have never guessed that Louis would even know who he is, let alone be a fan. The blond one, Niall, is cracking up and even the other hot one is smirking slightly, though seemingly more at Harry’s over the top modestly than anything else. Louis glowers.

“Nice to meet a fan then.” Harry says cheekily and Louis wants to punch him. He also wants to kiss him, but that’s a different story.

“There aren’t that many quiet places to eat here honestly.” Louis says, trying desperately to get the conversation back on track and away from his ‘obsession’ as Zayn calls it. It’s not an obsession, really, he thinks. Just a healthy admiration. “I mean there is the little burger joint behind the Cinderella ride but it’s kind of a shithole. The owner is nice though, and if you ask nicely enough she might even close the place off for you.” Louis hears himself giving advice as if in a daze and Harry nods sweetly at him.

“I love burgers!” Niall chimes in and goddamn is he ever irish.

“We know Niall.” Harry says, sounding exasperated and Niall turns to the buff one, pouting.

“He’s being mean again Liam tell him to be nice to me.” Liam swats Harry on the back of the head and they’re really pretty cute. Louis isn’t thinking about how nice it would be to be a part of that little friendship, he just isn’t.

“No chance of something a little healthier then? Nothing that would serve a salad of something with quinoa in it by any chance?” Harry asks and Niall groans.

“No! No more of your hippie bullshite Hazza I just want a burger. Tell him there aren’t any, I’ll be in your debt forever.” He’s talking to Louis now, and Louis blinks. He doesn't even know what quinoa is, let alone if they sell it.

“There really aren’t, sorry mate.” Zayn answers instead, and he sounds genuinely annoyed by the fact. How the fuck does everyone know what quinoa is, how did Louis get so out of the loop?

Harry makes a pained face that really shouldn’t be as cute as it is. “I suppose I’ll make do with a burger then.”

Niall woops and pumps his fists, displaying the most ridiculous happy dance Louis has ever seen, and that’s saying something because he lives with Zayn, who can’t dance to save his life.

Of course, nothing good can last forever, and at that exact moment, there’s a high-pitched screech of ‘OH MY GOD IS THAT HARRY STYLES?!?’ and Harry groans. Liam looks annoyed but smug, and Louis swears he hears him mutter ‘I told you we should have brought the bodyguards.’ under his breath.

“You can come in here if you want, we can close up the booth and you three can hide before they proper recognize you.” Zayn suggests helpfully, and Louis is about to turn and give him a grateful look, but Zayns eyes are trained on Liam, and he’s biting his lip in a way that Louis can tell is meant to be seductive. Well. This could be fun.

Harry ducks his head and scurries around the back, other two in tow , and they duck inside. Louis has never been more aware of how small the booth really is, but the five boys have to squish to fit properly, and after a couple of moments of shuffling, Louis is standing directly next to Harry, tilting his head to look up at the taller boy. He’s really fricking tall, which Louis knew, in theory, but it’s different in person, because Louis has to tilt his head slightly, and when Harry bumps Louis with his hip in a friendly gesture it bumps Louis’ waist instead, and, okay, maybe that’s a Thing for him. Whatever . It doesn’t matter. It’s Harry Styles, and the most Louis is going to get is maybe an autograph before Harry melts back into the canvas of interviews and red carpets, an untouchable, unrealistic idol once again, and Louis feels a little bit like puking.

“Thanks for letting us in here mate.” Harry says, and Louis just kinda nods dumbly, wondering if it would be alright to ask for an autograph. A picture maybe. Niall’s already picked up the abandoned Candy Crush game (on Louis’ phone, did Zayn leave it unlocked come on Zayn he has pictures of Harry on there) just like it’s nothing and Liam and Zayn are staring each other down in the corner, Zayn doing his best smolder that Louis knows only too well and Louis can tell that Liam ‘s falling for it. Typical. “I really should have listened to Liam and brought a bodyguard, but I just wanted to take advantage of my day off and go to Disney without feeling like I’m someone who needs to be protected, you know? I always feel like some sort of non-human when I walk around with a bodyguard, like I’m telling people I’m better than them, and I’m not, really.” Harry is saying, and Louis’ heart has forgotten how to beat in a normal rhythm probably.  
“Considering the fact that there are girls pounding on the door of this booth as we speak simply because they think you’re in here, I’d say on pretty good authority that you are someone that needs to be protected.” Louis says, and his voice comes out steady and normal sounding, and he’s having an actual conversation with Harry Styles, who is an actual real person. This is the best day of his entire life.  
“I don’t like that though,” Harry says sadly, scuffing the toe on his boot on the top of the other one and pouting slightly and its so endearing Louis feels like crying. “I just wanna meet people and make music and make friends you know?” Louis had expected joking, light teasing and smirks, the way Harry always interacts with fans (and yeah okay Louis knows those details it’s not a big deal shut up) but instead he gets painful earnestness and wide imploring eyes and somehow that’s worse.

Louis snorts. “I honestly thought that was just a ruse you put on for the paps mate.” Niall scoffs at that.

“Nah, our Harry here is the real deal. One hundred percent bona fide perfect person. It’s bloody annoying is what it is.” Harry smiles charmingly at him and Niall flips him off, sticking out his tongue.

****

They’re stuck in there for the next fifty two minutes, (not that Louis kept track or anything) until it’s suspiciously quiet and Zayn peeks his head outside. “We’re home free mates.” He says, sounding relieved. He and Liam had been having a heated argument over superhero’s, starting with the classic DC vs Marvel and then diverging into a really heated discussion over which one of them deserves to be Batman, both of them looking like they were a couple of quips away from hitting the other. Or sucking their dick, Louis couldn’t quite tell. They’re really so similar it makes Louis’ heart hurt a little. He hopes that he gets to be best man at their wedding. Niall had been curiously quiet the whole time, until Louis looked over and saw that he was asleep. ‘Typical’ Harry had muttered under his breath, and though Louis didn’t actually know them all that well yet, he was inclined to agree.

That left Louis and Harry. They were still standing next to each other, and Harry, turns out, is a very talkative person. They made it through food, (Harry had been a vegetarian for a while, but gave it up for local free-range steak, (Louis called him a hippie, and Harry just shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips)) uni, (Louis finished his music and theater degree last year, Harry never went, but had wanted to go into business an accounting before the music thing happened. “Wait why are you laughing?” “You’d be the worst accountant ever.” “Would not!” “Would so, you’d be bored out of your mind! There aren’t very many vegetarian hipster accountants with quiffs as high as yours.” “Okay well I thought it’d be a good idea shut up.” “You’re lucky you made it in music.” “Yeah… I am.”) sports, (Louis loves footie, Harry is, apparently, terrible, but decent at rugby. Niall woke up briefly to scoff at that and inform Louis that he was rubbish at both. Harry flipped him off again.) cats, (Harry loves them) tea, (Louis’ addicted) and infinite other filler topics. Louis knew most of these things already, but he listens attentively anyways, laughing a little too brightly sometimes, Harry’s eyes sparkling teasingly when Louis choked slightly at Harry adjusting the collar of his shirt, dipping it down to expose the wingtips of the sparrows inked there. Harry was intelligent and funny and laughed a lot, dimples popping out and eyes sparkling in a way that Louis didn’t think happened out of movies and shitty romance novels. Harry nudged Louis with his elbow at one point, nodding to where Zayn had ducked his head and giggled at something Liam said, and Liam was chewing on his lip, staring at Zayn like he had never seen anything so pretty. Harry waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Louis, and Louis had to shove his fist in his mouth to quiet the burst of laughter that bubbled up in his chest, nodding knowingly at Harry. It felt natural, and as they talked Louis stopped biting the inside of his cheek to stop himself from screaming whenever Harry opened his mouth and relaxed more, leaning back on the counter and running a hand through his fringe, quips coming faster and more clever. Louis was beginning to think that maybe Harry was a normal person. An incredibly attractive, unreasonably talented normal person. But a normal person none the less.

"I guess we'd better be going then." Harry says, and it might be wishful thinking that he sounds slightly reluctant.

"I suppose. Being cooped up in this tiny little booth all day is not as fun as its seemed from the last hour. Zayn and I advertise well."

Harry laughs and Louis catalogues it in his brain as the last time he'll make Harry Styles laugh. "Goodbye then Louis." He says, him and Liam and Niall turning to walk away.

Something unpleasant lurches in Louis's stomach and he searches desperately for something to say to get Harry to stay, or at least for Louis to get a picture without seeming like a crazy fan. (Heh.) "Good luck finding your quin-oh-ah!" is what comes out instead but Harry turns anyways, smile wide and bright.

"It's kee-nwah you uncultured tosser" Harry laughs, taking a step back towards the booth, and Louis counts that as a personal victory. "I still can't believe you've never heard of quinoa! 'S practically a crime, that."

"'S not, really" Niall mutters.

"Sounds gross if I'm being honest..." Louis says, wrinkling his nose.

Harry gasps like it’s a personal affront. "How dare you. I'll have to educate you. Come for dinner with me, I'll teach you the ways of actual good eating."

"Are you asking me on a date Harry Styles?" Louis asks, delighted and (mostly) teasing but Harry blushes.

"Depends, will you let me pay?" Harry teases.

"Depends, will you let me suck your dick after?" Louis shoots back without thinking, and, fuck, there goes his plan to not get arrested for sexual assault today. It's silent for a moment, their eyes locked on each other, and Harry bites his lip, eyes dark. Then Niall throws his head back and laughs like it's some grand joke and god bless Niall, truly.

The tension is broken and Harry smirks. "I'll pay." Louis sucks in a breath. That's that then. They exchange numbers (Oh my god he has Harrys number oh my god he could sell this for millions on the internet no he’s not going to he’s just saying) and then the three turn away again. Louis is so giddy that he almost doesn’t notice how Zayn is staring almost wistfully after Liam. Almost. He digs his elbow into Zayns side and Zayn winces.

“What?”

Louis jerks his head at the boys’ retreating backs and Zayn sighs. “Yeah okay. Oi Liam!” He shouts, and Liam almost trips over his feet in his haste to turn around. Louis chokes down a laugh and avoids Harry’s eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Can I have your number or uh… something?” Zayn stutters, and Liam whips out his phone like he practiced it.

Zayn punches his number into Liam’s phone while Liam adds his to Zayns. Niall taps his foot impatiently, rolling his eyes and munching on a chocolate bar that seemed to magically appear in his hands. “Alright can we actually go now or does one of you have to exchange numbers with that bushbaby over there?” Liam blushes scarlet but Harry just laughs, clapping Niall on the back.

“I’ll buy you a burger, alright? See you later Louis!” He calls over his shoulder as they walk away.

Louis’ head is reeling, and he looks over at Zayn, who looks a little shellshocked.

“Still bored?” Zayn jibes, but he looks as dazed as Louis feels, so Louis lets it slide.

“Stuff it. I’m going to dinner with Harry Styles.” He says, testing the words out on his tongue. They feel nice, so he says them again. “I’m going to dinner with Harry Styles.”

Zayn’s sentimental, lovestruck mood seems to have worn off and he rolls his eyes. “Control your fanatic Lou, he’s not gonna shag you if you recite every one of his funniest interview moments to him as foreplay.” His tone is scathing, but Louis just smiles prettily.

He has self-control, no matter what his idiot of a best friend thinks, and besides, Harry is nice and funny and annoyingly (endearingly) hipster and he plays with his fingers a lot when he’s telling a story and he’s a normal person. Louis is good with normal people. Today he was just off his game because of the shock factor, but he was ready to turn on the charm at dinner. Probably. As long as Harry didn’t turn up in that shirt Louis likes, the one that he wore to the VMA’s that time. Or that jacket that he sometimes wears in the winter... Damn this might be harder than he thought. Doesn’t matter. He’s still got this under control.

***

Louis is freaking out. He’s meeting Harry for dinner in half an hour and he still hasn’t figured out what to wear. Not for lack of trying, seeing as the entire content of his closet has projectile vomited all over his floor, leaving minimal room to breathe, let alone walk around, and Louis is about to pull out his hair if he doesn’t find something to wear in the next THREE SECONDS. He still has this under control. He pulls out his phone and texts Zayn.

‘Zaynieee I need your help what do I wear this is URGENT!!’

Zayn texts back almost immediately. Louis knew there was a reason he loved him.

‘just wear tht nice blazer or smth lou whyyyyy r u evn asking me this???’

Louis rolls his eyes so hard he can see the inside of his brain and scowls while he types a response.

‘Learn to spell wanker. That was monumentally unhelpful by the way, I’m never asking you advice again.”

‘luv you too babe u’ll look hot no matter what. be safe!!! ;) xx’

Louis rolls his eyes, ignores him, tosses his phone on the bed and promptly follows it, flopping into the pillows and groaning. He’s never going to find something to wear and Harry probably actually hates him and isn’t even going to show up and Louis’ll look like a fool no matter what he wears, so he might as well just stay here in his bed forever. He entertains that thought for another couple moments before he groans and pushes himself out of bed anyways. He ends up listening to Zayn, pulling on a blazer over his favourite The Who t-shirt and shimmying into the pair of dark jeans that’s just a little too tight (damn did he gain weight again?) but still makes his arse look fantastic. He briefly considers taming his hair into some sort of quiff, but it’s getting a little long for that so he just messes it up further, hoping it looks artful rather than careless. Fat chance, but whatever. He shaves, and regrets it immediately, because he looks younger and more like a babyfaced super-fan, which is the exact opposite of the image he’s trying to portray, but it’s fine. He’s got this.

*****

He takes a taxi to get to the restaurant, because his and Zayn's car is in dire need of repair and Louis doubts that it would actually make the trip across town to the place Harry was taking him, so he hailed a cab and read off the name of the incredibly hippie sounding restaurant that Harry had texted him earlier that day to the bored looking cabbie.

The restaurant is, well, not fancy at all. Honestly Louis expected that Harry, being famous and richer than Louis could even dream of, would take him to someplace where Louis would feel out of place and underdressed, someplace with mood lighting and candles and swanky wall decorations that looked like they were made of tissue paper or something. That was decidedly not the case. It was off the main roads, and Louis is almost convinced that the cabbie gets lost at one point, grumbling under his breath about ‘stupid hipster places springing up all over selling rabbit food and charging fifteen dollars for a goddamn plate of seeds.’ Louis is inclined to agree. It’s right next to the ocean, and the windows are huge and there are art pieces that Louis doesn’t understand littering the walls with splashes of colour like a small child took a paint brush and had a field day. The result is quite charming, actually, and Louis finds himself liking it against his will. It’s a nice change from grease stained fast food trucks at least.

Harry, unsurprisingly, looks right at home at this place, sitting at a table in the corner, and he gets up to greet Louis with a hug. He’s still ridiculously tall and smells ridiculously good and Louis isn’t sure he’s going to make it through this dinner alive. Harry is wearing (tight tight) dark jeans and a maroon button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and top button undone. He looks incredible and Louis has to take a couple of deep breaths to resist the urge to pinch himself. Louis makes a mental bet with himself that at least two more buttons will be open before the night is over, and if it’s more of a prayer, well, no-one needs to know.

“Hey Louis.” Harry says, dimples making a guest appearance on his cheeks and eyes sparkling a green that Louis is pretty sure isn’t even a real colour.

“Hi. This place is…. nice.” Louis says, and Harry laughs a little at his hesitance.

“Alright, it’s not quite a food truck selling corn dogs, but it’s my kind of place. I was in your kind of place yesterday, give me this.” He’s teasing like they’re best friends, and Louis should probably be disturbed at how easily they fall into comfortableness, a rhythm that suggests years of friendship, rather than years of Louis sitting in his room and pretending that he isn’t googling Harry’s name. Louis still doesn't really understand why Harry asked him to dinner, of all people, but he is certainly not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“I really like it, actually” Louis says honestly, and it’s just a perk that Harry’s face lights up like a little kid being offered his weight in candy bars.

“Really?” Harry asks, and suddenly he’s shy, like he’s worried that Louis is going to hate it, like anyone could hate something when Harry Styles is looking at them so earnestly and genuinely, sweetly hoping they like it and it’s so ridiculous that Louis laughs, just a little.

“I really do like it. Promise. Now let’s order some quinoa, I need to find out what I’ve been missing out on.” Louis makes a point to pronounce it correctly and he’s rewarded by another flash of Harry’s dimples.

Harry is even more charming in this setting, relaxed and comfortable, and Louis forgets to be starstruck. Harry orders a burger with quinoa on it for Louis and some sort of quinoa and artichoke salad for himself that Louis wrinkles his nose at when Harry points at it on his menu.

They laugh and talk until their food comes, watching a man on a surfboard fall impressively into the water down on the beach, trying to find meaning in the paintings scattered on the walls. Of course Harry is the type of person who needs to find a backstory for everything, he's a filthy hipster, so when Louis says he sees a man playing drums in one abstract painting, Harry devises an entire novel about how his girlfriend dumped him and he started a rock band with his dog in order to write bitter songs about how terrible she is, and makes his drums out of pop cans and garbage bins and pots. Louis laughs till his sides hurt, and okay, it was probably funnier in person, or maybe it’s just funnier because it’s Harry and Harry has this way of focusing his attention entirely on the person he’s talking to makes Louis feel light and fuzzy around the edges. He tells his stories in a roundabout way that doesn’t make sense half the time but it’s captivating and endearing and Louis finds himself hanging onto Harry’s every word. Louis thinks that maybe Harry could read off the phone book and he would listen avidly to the entire thing.

The waiter comes with their food as Harry is in the middle of a particularly hilarious story about one time he was drunk and Niall dared him to make out with a barstool and he got a splinter in his lip. Louis glares at the waiter reproachfully without realizing it until Harry kicks his ankle under the table and he remembers that there are people in the world who aren't him and Harry and that he actually is hungry and that it is in fact the waiters job to bring them their food and he isn't trying to ruin Louis's life by interrupting Harry. He realizes all of those things simultaneously and they're all actually reasonable things, so he smiles at the waiter and says thank to when his burger is placed in front of him.

He looks at the burger slightly dubiously. It looks normal enough, but there is some stuff that kind of looks like tiny round bits of rice falling out of it.

"'S that the quinoa then?" He asks, looking up to meet Harry's eyes. Harry nods and Louis steels himself, picking up his burger and taking a tentative bite. It's... Well its a burger and the meat is very good, rich and juicy and tender all at the same time, but there are these little grainy bits on top of it, leaving a funny aftertaste and marring the overall enjoyment of the meat. He wrinkles his nose and looks at Harry, who looks like he’s trying not to laugh. “I don’t like it.” Louis says petulantly, like a little kid, and Harry rolls his eyes.

“Lame.” He shakes his head disapprovingly, but he’s laughing and he reaches over to grab the burger out of Louis’ hands and he carefully peels the top bun off to scrape off the offending grain into a neat little pile on his plate. Louis smiles gratefully at him.

“‘S really nasty how do you eat that?”

“It’s an aquired taste I guess.” Harry laughs, taking a huge bite of his own salad and Louis cringes on his behalf.

“I promise you I could eat that every day of my life and I still won’t have acquired it by the time I’m old and wrinkled and wearing a nappy yelling at teenagers to turn their music down.” Louis swears.

Harry’s eyes sparkle with the challenge. “Is that you offering to eat it every day?”

“No oh my god I take it back I never said that Harry please.” Louis pleads. Harry’s killing himself laughing on the other side of the table, clutching his stomach.

“You should have seen your face oh my god Lou…” He’s still chuckling and Louis scowls at him, but his mind is yelling nicknames Harry Styles is calling me nicknames I’ve known him one entire day and he’s calling me nicknames he knows my name and he just called me Lou I think I might fall over.

“That’s not funny Haz.” He throws the nicknames back, because two can play that game, and maybe he’s cheating a little because he already knows that Harry’s good friends call him Haz but whatever. No one needs to know.

“It kind of is you should have seen your face.” Louis pouts at him and Harry blows him a kiss, and then Louis forgets that he’s meant to be mad, forgets most of everything to be honest, because Harry just blew him a kiss and he had been doing so well not getting arrested for sexual assault in a public place but now all he can think about is Harry kissing him, and maybe Harry kissing him all over, and how those lips would look trailing down his stomach, how they would look parted and kiss red, head thrown back and cheeks flushed. Suddenly all he can think about is the way that Harry eats his food by flicking his tongue out before opening his mouth wider than strictly necessary to swallow it. He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths and desperately thinks about that time that Zayn beat him in a footie match 13-0 and his grandmothers vile carrot cake. It works, mostly, and when he opens his eyes the world is still spinning and nothing appears to have changed and Harry is still offendingly hot and sitting across from him eating gross looking rabbit food and tilting his head worriedly like a puppy. A puppy that Louis would not mind having sex with.

Harry opens his mouth, probably to ask if Louis is alright and Louis quickly takes a huge bite of his burger and then almost chokes, and the joke about him gagging for it is not lost on him. “This is a really good burger, now that the mouse droppings have been disposed of.” He says once his mouth is free.

“They look nothing like mouse droppings shut up.” Harrys says, but he looks suspiciously at his plate anyways.

“So Harold, tell me something about yourself. Something the world doesn’t already know.” Louis brandishes the free baguette off the table under Harrys nose like a microphone, doing his best paparazzi voice. Was it a baguette? That’s a french thing, probably not. Some sort of other bread thing then. Whatever. He just needs to change the subject before his mind can go back to pondering how Harry would look when he comes. (Cut that out.)

Harry furrows his eyebrows, chewing on his bottom lip as he thinks. Louis kind of wants to tell him to stop because it’s distracting, but that goes against his “I’ve got this under control” plan that he’s just re-remembered, so he bites the inside of his cheek instead as Harry ponders the question. “I wanted to play flute when I was little.” He says.

“I knew that.” Louis says immediately, and Harry looks a little shocked.

“How in the hell…?” He asks.

“Interview somewhere.” Louis replies airily, but he can tell he’s blushing, and he furiously shouts at his brain to cut it out already. “Seriously Harry, there must be something you haven’t told the world. Hidden talents, recurring nightmares about having to drink your coffee black, drug addictions? Gimme something here.”

Harry rolls his eyes at Louis’ examples and chews his food slowly.

“You’re really infuriating did you know that?” Louis says, exasperated, and Harry just smiles.

“I have a scar shaped like an L on my hip.” He says. “When I was five Gem was chasing me around the house to steal the popsicle I was eating and I tripped and fell on a piece of lego. It kind of implanted sideways so the point hit first and went deepest, and the way it healed it looks a little like an L. Gem always says it’s the soulmate tattoo I never meant to get.”

Louis laughs, because obviously it’s a joke, but Harry doesn’t laugh and, well. That’s… Yeah. Alright.

“The first girl I ever dated was named Leigh-Anne, and I thought Gemma would be really pleased. I was eleven and I remember being so excited for Gemma to meet her, and so one day I told her I had ‘met L, my soulmate.’ Gemma met her in the hallways at school the next day and she just laughed and patted my back and told me to keep my options open. We broke up after three weeks.”

Louis frowns. “Is this a sad story? I don’t like sad stories.” Harry chuckles.

“It’s not a sad story, now shut up and listen. Anyways I dated more girls through middle school and then in tenth grade Gemma introduced me to her friend Larry.” He pauses, making sure that it’s obvious that ‘being introduced’ meant ‘dated’ and then continues his story. “It didn’t work out, but at least I figured out I wasn’t a boobs kind of a guy after all.” He smirks, and Louis giggles. He didn’t even know he was giggling sort of guy, and yet here he is. Probably Harry’s fault. Definitely Harry’s fault.

“Even I could have told you that Harold.” Louis says drily.

“I was in tenth grade shut up. Gemma’s always been the smart one.” Harry laughs.

“So have all of your conquests’ names started with L then?” Louis asks.

“I object to the word conquests Louis.” His eyes are mischievous, sparkling. “And no, just those two.”

Louis considers that, taking another bite of his burger. It’s really, really quite good now that all the offending quinoa has been collected in a neat pile on the side of Harry’s plate and Louis thinks that he could deal with coming to this restaurant again. Preferably with Harry sat across the table.

He looks up and Harry is staring at him, looking fond and kind of like he’d thoroughly enjoy taking Louis’ clothes off, and Louis physically squirms under his gaze. He’s pretty sure this is supposed to go differently, if anything was normal in the universe this dinner would end with Harry politely signing something, a napkin probably, and sending Louis on his way with a fun celebrity story and a (huge) crush. However somewhere, somehow Louis must have done something very, very right because Harry is sitting across from him at a dumb (cute) little hipster restaurant eating quinoa and laughing at things Louis says, which is basically a necessity in any relationship really, and looking at Louis like Louis is the interesting one and Louis has never been the praying type, but there must be some sort of a god to thank for this.

****

Harry kisses just as good as he could have ever hoped. He had picked up the bill at the restaurant and grabbed Louis' hand, saying "Do you have a place or do you want to come to my hotel don't leave yet Louis please." There's really no chance that Louis would say no to that and next thing he knows he's telling Harry the directions to his place (oh my god Harry's car is expensive Louis is scared to breathe wrong and ruin something.) He offers Harry a beer once they get to his, but Harry’s standing so close (so so close) and whispering 'Can I?' before Louis nods and Harry kisses him.

That's logically what led them here, to Harry pressing Louis into his bed with his lips sucking marks into his neck, but Louis still think that there must have been some divine intervention at play. Harry's tongue is like sin, and Louis squirms underneath his insistent lips, whining high in his throat when Harry sucks particularly hard on his neck.

Louis' hands scrabble at Harry's waist, pulling his hips down and Harry flops on top on him, huffing a laugh against Louis' skin. The laugh dissipates quickly when Louis thrusts his hips up, and Harry moans and presses his hips down, rolling rhythmically against Louis' denim-clad crotch.

"Louis Louis Louis Louis Lou Lou Louis." His name drips from Harry's lips like honey, breath ghosting over Louis' ear as he ruts against Louis. Heat pools in Louis' stomach and he bites his tongue before realizing that Harry is actually trying to talk to him.

"What?" He asks.

Harry pulls back far enough to look Louis in the eyes, hips never slowing and Louis is so hard he might explode if he doesn't come soon.

"How many times have you gotten off imagining this?" Harry asks, eyes dancing with glee and Louis gapes at him for a second before bursting out laughing and smacking his shoulder. Louis grabs the pillow and rolls them over.

"You- absolute - wanker !!" Louis gets out between smacks, and Harry curls up on the bed, laughing so hard his whole body shakes.

"I'm sorry I'm so sorry I couldn't resist Louis forgive me pleease!" Harry shrieks through his laughter.

"I cannot believe you," Louis says, dropping the pillow and falling beside Harry. "I cannot. Believe you." He says again. Harry's still laughing. "You just ruined the entire mood I can't believe."

"I ruined the entire mood?" Harry asks, propping himself up on his elbow. "The entire mood. All of it. You would be severely opposed to giving me a blowjob right now." He's smirking, and all stretched out on the bed, hard line of his cock visible in his tight jeans and that's really, really cheating. Louis is still gagging for it.

Harry's still giggling when Louis pops open the button of his jeans and he's such an idiot Louis wants to hide him away and keep him to himself forever.

Louis' breath stills in his throat when Harry's cock springs free of his pants. Okay so he knew, he /knew/ that Harry had a big dick. It's obvious, that's not creepy there's nudes he's seen them shut up shut /up/. But Harry's dick is just so goddamn pretty and it twitches so nicely when Louis wraps his hand around the base and places a light kiss on the tip.

"Louuiss." Harry groans, breath hitching in his throat. Louis smiles and presses another kiss to the side of Harry's cock, tongue flicking out to trace along the ridge under the head, dragging along the skin there and Harry shudders underneath him. He sinks his mouth over Harry's cock, swirling his tongue on the underside and gripping the base tightly in his hand.

Harry bucks his hips up and Louis gags but takes a breath through his nose, swallowing around Harry until his nose is brushing Harry's stomach. Harry is swearing a blue streak above him, thighs tensed in an effort to keep himself still. His fingers tug on Louis' hair and the sharp sting of pain keeps Louis grounded. He bobs his head to feel the pull on the strands and Harry loosens his fingers slightly before Louis pinches his thigh in annoyance.

"Yeah, god yeah okay." Harry breathes, tugging a little harder and Louis breathes out heavily and swallows again, throat fluttering against the head of Harry's dick. "Louis, Louis, gonna-"

Louis pulls off and looks up at Harry through his lashes, blinking innocently and stroking loosely over Harry’s dick. “Yes?”

“Can I… please?” Harry asks, gesturing at Louis and making a crude gesture with his fingers that’s so stupid Louis almost laughs. But he has Harry’s hard dick in his hand and Harry has just asked to fuck him and it’s really, really not the time for laughing.

“Use your big boy words Harry.” Louis says and Harry growls, flipping them neatly so he’s hovered above Louis, the head of his dick pressing against Louis’ stomach through his t-shirt.

“Can I fuck you please Louis?” Harry breathes right in his ear and well, that’s that then.  
****

 

When Louis wakes up a couple of hours later, it’s to the crashing of something very large clattering on the floor in his kitchen and Harry swearing colourfully Louis would yell if everything is alright, but he’s so /sleepy/ and if Harry was really hurt or something he would say, right? Right. Instead Louis wraps the duvet around himself and pads to the kitchen in his bare feet, appraising the scene when he gets to the kitchen. Harry’s standing there in just boxers, leaning down to pick up a huge pot from the floor and has apparently raided all of Louis’ cupboards and is making waffles. Louis spends about three seconds being thankful that Harry didn’t leave, four seconds being annoyed that Harry woke him up, and the better part of a minute trying to tamp down the warm feeling in his chest that threatens to choke him.

“Harry ‘s past midnight what the fuck are you doing?” Louis mumbles.

Harry looks up guiltily, like a small child caught doing something he’s not supposed to be doing, big green eyes looking at Louis pleadingly. “I was hungry, I thought I’d make food.” He explains as if it’s the most obviously thing in the world. Louis supposes that in all fairness it probably is rather obvious.

“You just got out of bed and raided my kitchen to make waffles.” Louis says slowly, trying to work this through.

Harry hesitates. “Yes?” He makes it sound like a question and he’s still painfully endearing, even at nearly one in the morning. Louis wants to ruffle his hair and also drag him back to the bedroom and have his way with him. But waffles.

“I expected breakfast in the morning you know.” Louis laughs, walking forward to wrap himself around Harry from behind, still clutching the duvet as he stands on tiptoes to hook his chin over Harry’s shoulder. “And not at one in the bloody morning.”

“Technically this is morning though.” Harry laughs, relieved that Louis isn’t mad. “‘M sorry though. You can go back to bed I’ll make you more food in the actual morning. Jetlag fucked me over I couldn’t sleep now anyways.”

Louis probably couldn’t sleep now either, and he just wraps himself closer to Harry, stepping between his feet. “Nah I want waffles now.”

Harry laughs and starts pouring batter into the waffle maker, shuffling around the inconvenience of Louis on his back. “Are you gonna let go so I can actually make the waffles then?”

“No.” Louis responds easily.

Harry shrugs in acceptance continues making the waffles, piling them on a plate. Louis rips off a corner and stuffs it in his mouth.

"Shit Curly you make good waffles. I might have to keep you around."

Harry turns around in the circle of Louis' arms and drops a kiss on his nose. "I hope so, I'm not really wearing very much clothing."

"Just the way I like it." Louis replies, and Harry laughs.

The waffles are delicious, and Harry makes whipped cream (which Louis wipes on his cheek and lips to lick it off and only thinks a little bit about licking it off other parts of his body). Harry’s fidgety though, squirming and shaking his legs and playing with his rings until Louis is about to explode and walks over, plopping himself down on his lap.

“You okay?” He asks, wrapping his arms around Harry’s shoulders and wondering if he can just drop a kiss on his head.

“Yeah shit sorry I’m just really, I dunno antsy I guess. Can’t sit still lately I just wanna go do something big, you know? Produce an entire album or cure world hunger or run a marathon or something.” Harry looks painfully sincere, so Louis doesn’t laugh.

“Let’s do something then.” Louis says instead.

“Like what?” Harry looks hopeful, eyes wide, tiny bit of whipped cream on the tip of his nose and Louis’ heart lurches a little.

“Disney.” Louis says simply.

Harry blinks like he’s not sure if Louis is joking or not, and to be fair it is the thing he might joke about to Zayn or something, but it’s the middle of the night and Harry’s gorgeous and asking and Louis has never been more serious about anything in his life.

“Come on.” Louis says, jumping up and wiggling his fingers for Harry to grab. “I have a master key let’s go!” He’s excited now, the thrill of adventure rising in his chest, and he bounces on his toes a little, grinning at Harry. Harry smiles, huge and sincere and grabs Louis’ hand, pulling him into a hug off so that Louis’ feet leave the ground and swinging him around. He giggles into Louis’ hair, sounding like a little boy on Christmas morning and Louis kicks his feet at him and shrieks to be let down while his heart expands so much it threatens to choke him. He’s pretty sure he’d do nice things for Harry every single day of his life just to know that that unbridled childlike excitement is directed at him. Doing nice things for Harry is possibly the most rewarding thing ever and Louis is heady with it, giddy with Harry’s full attention.

Harry deposits him on the ground and intertwines their fingers, pulling them to the bedroom and for a moment Louis thinks he’s just going to push him on the bed and kiss him, which is really not the plan, but Harry just grabs his jeans and pulls them on, shrugging on his button down and tossing Louis his jumper. Louis presses his lips together to fight the smile that threatens to take over his face and pulls the jumper over his head, extracting his hands from the too-long sleeves to pull on his own jeans.

Harry’s a hurricane, tossing Louis his car keys (how does he know where Louis keeps his car keys?) and shoving an extra waffle in his mouth on his way out the door and then he’s standing next to the car, bouncing on his toes and Louis has to blink to be able to keep up, ducking into the drivers seat and and turning the keys into the ignition. The car revs to life and it’s loud in the dark, headlights pooling yellow on the pavement. The stars are bright as they drive the road that Louis has driven hundreds of times to work but it’s different in the dark with Harry sitting next to him, it feels like an adventure. All of a sudden Louis understands why Harry gets antsy, why he hates to sit still, because this is what it’s all about, living before you lose your chance, driving a shitty car in the middle of the night with someone you just met in the passenger seat. This is it. This is what he gets and he’s not gonna waste it.

He tries his key in the gates at the entrance and Harry cheers when it turns, rushing past him into the square, spreading his arms wide and spinning, wooping into the dark air. He’s gorgeous, and when he beckons for Louis to join him Louis laughs, taking the hand offered him and spinning with him.

When Louis is so dizzy that his head feels fuzzy and the only thing real in the world is the pressure of Harry's hand enveloping his they stop, Harry laughing breathlessly. He's the most gorgeous thing Louis has ever seen and Louis stumbles forwards and grabs Harry's cheeks to center himself, pressing their lips together because he can. Harry's lips are warm and soft and Louis' head is still spinning and he feels a little drunk on Harry and a lot alive in a way he's never felt before.

"You don't reckon you could start up one of the rides eh?" Harry says.

"Not a chance." Louis replies firmly, because as much as he wants to give Harry things, he didn't spend a week in safety training to be fired for illegally running a roller coaster to impress a celebrity. As tempting as that is.

They end up wandering around ice cream bars and day-old churros that Louis nicked from the little booth that never fully locks and can be yanked open if you have enough muscle (Louis had to lift weights at the gym for a month to be able to open it don't talk about it.) and just talking. Louis makes Harry talk for what feels like hours until Harry turns to Louis and asks him twenty five questions in a row and refuses to say another word until Louis answers all of them. Harry wants to know everything, it seems, from the colour of Louis' toothbrush to his favourite book to the song he listens to while he falls asleep. (It's definitely one of Harry's and Harry laughs so hard he almost spits ice cream all over.) Harry asks Louis his most embarrasing memory and Louis hesitates only breifly before telling Harry about how in middle school he's walked in on the varsity hockey team changing and didn't know what to do, so he just sat in a corner and covered his eyes while the team crowded around him and laughed. Louis tells Harry how his teenage sister once hit her head and he got three speeding tickets mailed to his house on the way to the hospital and Zayn sold an obscene amount of drugs to help him pay for it. Louis omits the part where he gave Zayn a blowjob as thanks but thinks Harry would probably just laugh.

 

They're sitting in the curve of a roller coaster (Louis is definitely getting fired) when Harry stands up on the bars and grabs on to the bars above them, swinging back and forth. "Isn't it gorgeous?" He sounds wondering, and Louis doesn't laugh. He's never used the word gorgeous in his entire life but it sounds natural coming from Harry. "This is what I miss most honestly." Louis is quiet to let him continue. "Just being outside, you know? Everytime I go outside it's a mob and I have to sign autographs and take pictures or go hide somewhere. I wouldn't trade it for anything, but this. This." he drops lithely beside Louis, spreading his arms and gesturing around them. "This is perfect. Just being outside in the open, smelling the night and breathing the air." He takes a deep breath and lets it out, laughing a little like he just can't help himself. Louis has never wanted to kiss someone in his whole life.

He pushes himself up and wraps himself around Harry, hands bunching in his shirt as he buries his nose in the crook of Harry's neck. They stand there for who knows how long, watching the darkness of America's biggest amusement park until their breathing is synchronized and the warmth of Harry's hand on his waist has melted into his body.

"Have you fallen asleep on me?" Harry whispers finally and Louis hums into his neck. "I'll take that as a no." Harry laughs. "As much as I'd like to stay here forever I've got shit to do tomorrow."

Louis clenches his arms tighter as if holding Harry closer could stop the morning from coming, and Harry kisses his hair. "You're ridiculous."

“Don’t leave me.” Louis whines into Harry’s neck.

“My number is programmed in your phone as ‘love of my life’ and you’re going to text me all the time when I’m bored in photoshoots you might just be stuck with me.” Harry says.

Louis swallows a couple times before laughing a little breathlessly. (love of my life) “Really Harry?” (love of my life) “A little presumptuous there ya think?” (love of my life).

“You have a folder of pictures of me on your phone Lou.” Harry laughs, sounding all together much less creeped out than he should have. “I’m not worried.”

“I’m not… I’m not a creepy fan I swear.” Louis says, thinking this should probably be made clear.

“If I was worried about your sanity we wouldn’t be here right now babe.” Harry says. “Actually we’re standing on the bars of a roller coaster at four in the morning I’m minorly worried about your sanity. But I like you. A lot. I like you a lot and I’d really like to see more of you. Even if i have to sing you my songs before we have sex.” He tacks on as an afterthought and Louis considers the paperwork if he pushed Harry off right now onto the pavement.

“You really have a thing for ruining moments don’t you?” Louis says, shaking his head, a smile playing on his lips. “I like you too, you know.” He could say more, could say how his heart contracts every time Harry smiles at him, how he feels like he had a head-start loving Harry but feels like everything was rebuilt from the foundation today, how it seems like maybe he’s known Harry his entire life, how he’s never felt more comfortable around anyone. He doesn’t say any of this, but Harry leans in to kiss him and he gets it.

They’re still kissing when the person who unlocks the gates in the morning shows up and they break apart to his yell, Harry hops down from the bars and grabs Louis’ hands as he follows. The man’s shouting fades away into the background as they round the corner of a building, and Louis puts his hands on his knees to catch his breath, wheezing through laughter and Harry clutches his arm cackling. 

“God I’m gonna be fired Harry shit.” Louis pants between bursts of laughter. 

“He didn’t know it was you he was screaming about ‘dumb teenagers’ you’re safe.” Harry says and he’s laughing almost too hard for it to be intelligible.

“This’ll go down in the history books when you do interviews later. First date? Well we almost got kicked out of Disneyland…” Louis gasps.

Harry looks at him for a moment and Louis is scared he went too far when Harry smiles so wide his eyes almost disappear and he kisses Louis deeply, hands tugging him closer. “I’ll make sure to tell the story in great detail.” He swears when he pulls back. “But this is definitely the second date.”

Louis doesn’t even grace that with a reply and simply rolls his eyes, tugging Harry closer as the sun rises over the happiest place on earth. 

“Here’s to the happiest place on earth.” Harry whispers next to him, and Louis presses his fingers into where he knows Harry’s scar is and for that moment in time, Louis allows himself to believe in soulmates.


End file.
